Poppy's Recipe for Life: Treat yourself to the gloriously uplifting new book from the Sunday Times bestselling author!

by Heidi Swain

  Once they had gone to the house with Luke and Kate, the rest of us worked together to clear up the worst of the mess, round up the hens, repair their run and cut away what couldn’t be salvaged. No part of the garden had escaped the unwanted attentions of whoever had broken in. Even the elderflower cordial in the bothy had been smashed and spilled.

  ‘There’s just one crate left,’ I said, carrying it out and putting it on the table.

  ‘In that case,’ said Luke, who had rejoined us and was, with good reason, looking wearier than the rest of us put together, ‘I think we should open it, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ rallied John, ‘let’s not let the bastards get the better of us.’

  ‘Dad!’ scolded Tamsin, her eyes red from crying.

  ‘Sorry, love,’ he said, giving her a squeeze and setting her off again.

  ‘I can’t believe we didn’t hear anything,’ said Kate, as she shifted the sling holding Abigail into a more comfortable position across her chest.

  ‘It was the storm,’ said Harold, ‘you couldn’t hear anything over that wind.’

  We raised our glasses and stared at the sorry mess before us. Jacob had put his hands to good use, repairing the beanpoles and tying in the plants that were left, and the hens were having a wonderful time gorging themselves on some of the fruit and veg that had come their way because it had been torn out of the soil or off its vines and bushes and trampled.

  ‘I’ll make up some veg boxes,’ said Carole, her voice cracking. ‘We can eat most of what’s been damaged. There must be something we can salvage from this.’

  Graham reached for her hand and I wished I felt able to do the same with Jacob. No one had commented on us arriving together, but that wasn’t surprising. Everyone was too preoccupied with the clear-up mission, plus I had told Lisa and Mark that I would be going to get him.

  ‘I know no one wants to hear it,’ said Neil, bravely broaching the subject that was on all our minds, ‘but we do need to have a think about the competition.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Heather as she and Glen got ready to take their little brood home for lunch, ‘that’s a good point, Neil. We can’t possibly win now, can we?’

  ‘But after all our hard work!’ sobbed Lisa.

  ‘Very little of which is left,’ pointed out her husband.

  ‘Let’s all go home for a rest,’ suggested Luke, ‘and have a think about it.’

  It was with hanging heads and heavy hearts that the sad little party broke up. I took one last glance at the state of the place before ducking through the gate to go back to the square.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ said Jacob, falling into step next to me. ‘After all our work. I know I hated even the thought of it when I first moved here, but I can’t be without it now. I love that place as much as I love—’

  ‘Hey, you two,’ said Neil, pushing his way between us and cutting Jacob off, ‘do you want to come back to ours?’

  ‘Thanks, Neil,’ I said, thinking of the kitchen chair I needed to salvage from my own garden, along with the glasses, ‘but if you don’t mind I’m just going to go back to mine for a bit.’

  ‘No worries,’ he said, nodding, ‘we’ll see you later though, yeah?’

  ‘Yes,’ I promised. ‘In a while.’

  Jacob didn’t pick up his train of thought once Neil had gone and as I put my key in the front door I realised that his sentence wasn’t the only thing that had been left hanging and unresolved. No one had made any suggestion as to who might have been responsible for wrecking our beloved Grow-Well and no one had asked why Ryan wasn’t helping with the clear-up operation either.

  ‘Why do you think no one asked where Ryan was?’ I asked Jacob as he helped me dry off the kitchen chair. ‘I know we were all getting on with things, but not a single person asked where he was. You don’t think—’

  ‘No,’ he interrupted sharply. ‘I don’t. No one would entertain the idea that Ryan was in any way responsible for what’s happened over there.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to say that,’ I snapped back.

  ‘Oh.’ He flushed. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I was going to say’ – I swallowed, the thought tearing into my heart – ‘that he’d probably spoken to them rather than me. Maybe he told them he was going to Joe’s.’

  It was a horrid thought and, if that was the case, why had no one warned me?

  ‘It wasn’t like that that,’ said Jacob, his face turning even redder as he set the chair down in the kitchen on the newspaper I had spread over the floor in case it dripped as it dried out.

  I didn’t think I would ever be able to sit on it again without experiencing the tingly feelings Jacob had elicited from me while I was sitting on and then astride it last night.

  ‘But how can you be sure?’ I frowned. ‘If no one knows he’s gone to Joe’s, then why didn’t they ask where he was?’

  ‘They do know.’ He sighed. ‘I told them. Before I came to meet you at work on Saturday, I gathered everyone together on the green and told them that Ryan was staying with a mate.’

  ‘You spoke to everyone before you told me about his text message?’ I said, the glasses slipping a little in my grasp.

  Jacob carefully took them from me.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, reaching for my hands. ‘I know you probably won’t thank me for it, but I was worried about how you were going to react and I didn’t think you’d want to be faced with extra questions. I gave Graham back the keys to Prosperous Place and told everyone that Ryan would be back again soon.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, ‘I see.’

  ‘I knew you were going to be upset, and I wanted to make sure that no one started asking you about it.’

  ‘And that’s why they haven’t asked after him today?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, looking sheepish. ‘I hope I wasn’t out of line. I just didn’t want you to be feeling worse about it all than you probably still are.’

  ‘And what about you?’ I asked him. ‘How are you feeling?’

  I was relieved that his answer proved that he knew exactly what I was talking about.

  ‘The same as you,’ he said, dropping my hands. ‘Guilty as. We promised to keep things platonic, didn’t we? And the second Ryan’s not here . . .’

  ‘We did promise,’ I said, nodding, ‘and we’ve failed. If he finds out,’ I added, feeling teary again, ‘it’ll be a miracle if my brother ever comes back.’

  *

  We all congregated back in the garden later that afternoon and Lisa took charge of overseeing the vote that would decide whether we withdrew from the competition we had all worked our backsides off for; but before it got underway she had something she wanted to say to me.

  ‘Poppy,’ she said, ‘we weren’t going to say anything . . .’

  ‘. . . but in view of this most recent disaster . . .’ added Carole.

  ‘We don’t want you to think that any of us have assumed,’ Lisa carried on, ‘that because he’s isn’t here right now, your wonderful brother has had anything to do with what’s happened here.’

  ‘Or with the house, for that matter,’ Luke quickly added.

  ‘Jacob told us he’s gone to stay with a mate for a few days,’ Lisa continued, ‘and that he’s feeling more than gutted that the house was broken into while he was in charge.’

  ‘It was rotten timing.’ Carole smiled kindly.

  ‘As is what’s happened here,’ muttered some of the others.

  ‘But that’s all it is,’ said Luke stoutly, ‘bad timing.’

  ‘And we know you’re probably wishing he hadn’t decided to go at all,’ Lisa finished up, ‘so we’re not going to go on about it, we just want you to know that we’re not blaming him for any of this.’

  Jacob looked at me and winked and I knew I couldn’t be cross that he had told them. He only had my best interests at heart; they all did.

  ‘Thanks, everyone,’ I said, blushing under their attention. ‘I really appreciate that, and I know Ryan would too if he was here, b
ut he isn’t and that’s my most pressing concern right now. If he hears about what’s happened here overnight he might well assume that we’re thinking he did have something to do with it.’

  ‘He wouldn’t think that,’ said Neil, stepping up and rubbing my arm, ‘he knows we think the world of him.’

  ‘But if you’re that worried,’ suggested Mark, stepping up to my other side, ‘why don’t you ring him or send him a text? Get in first and explain everything?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Neil, ‘before he hears about it on the news or something.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said, shaking my head, ‘I have a feeling he’s lost his phone.’

  ‘And the one he used to get in touch with me,’ said Jacob, holding up his own mobile, ‘is switched off.’

  ‘Well don’t worry,’ said Mark stoutly, ‘we’ll think of something, won’t we, guys?’

  Everyone promised to think the problem through and then the vote got underway.

  ‘So,’ said Lisa, her voice wobbling as she made the announcement, ‘that’s decided then. We’re pulling out of the competition.’

  There was barely a dry eye amongst us.

  ‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said again. ‘After all our work.’

  We all looked over the garden. It was marginally tidier thanks to our earlier efforts, but it was still wrecked. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a sorrier sight.

  ‘What’s that noise?’ Graham said suddenly, cocking his head the better to listen.

  ‘I can’t hear anything,’ Carole answered.

  ‘Shush,’ he urged, earning himself one of her steeliest stares. ‘Over there.’

  As one our eyes swivelled to where he was pointing, and Tamsin ran across to the mangled courgette bed.

  ‘Tamsin,’ Lisa called after her. ‘Be careful.’

  ‘It’s coming from here!’ she shouted, plunging her hands into the tangle of broken and twisted leaves. ‘It’s a phone,’ she added, pulling it out as her father rushed over to retrieve it.

  We crowded round to take a look.

  I swallowed. ‘It’s Ryan’s.

  Chapter 30

  Luke put off making the call to the police to tell them that a phone had been found at the Grow-Well, along with who it belonged to, for as long as possible. When they turned up to collect it, depositing it into a plastic bag and sealing it inside, Jacob made sure he told them that Ryan had been in touch via someone else’s phone, so he couldn’t have been anywhere near the garden when it was trashed, but I’m not sure it helped.

  ‘So, my guess is that this was lost, or perhaps stolen, a few days ago,’ he insisted. ‘Ryan hasn’t had this phone since the house was broken into,’ he added. ‘I’m certain of that.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said the policeman. ‘We’ll be the judge of that.’

  It was the same guy who had been to the house, but he didn’t sound quite so sure of my brother’s glowing reputation and innocence now.

  ‘And you say you haven’t seen him since he took off after the break-in?’ he said, turning his attention to me.

  ‘No—’ I started huskily.

  ‘He didn’t take off,’ Jacob interrupted, eliciting a raised eyebrow from the officer. ‘It’s not like he’s run away or anything. He’s just gone to stay with a mate.’

  ‘In that case, you’d better tell us all about this so-called mate and where we can find him, hadn’t you?’

  As the time ticked by and Monday nudged towards Tuesday, I began to think my brother was never coming back. The police hadn’t been able to track down either Ryan or Joe. Joe’s mum, Sandra, had said they’d gone off camping somewhere but she didn’t know where. She wasn’t unduly concerned as they were both good lads.

  ‘They’ll turn up when they run out of food,’ she had told the police.

  My own mother wasn’t worried either, but that was because she didn’t care.

  ‘She didn’t seem all that bothered,’ the officer in charge, the one who had taken the phone, told me when he popped into Greengages late on Tuesday afternoon.

  ‘Yes, well, I’m afraid she’s not that sort of mother,’ I said, mouthing an apology to Harry that the police had turned up at the shop. ‘She’s actually the reason why Ryan’s been staying with me.’

  ‘I can well believe it. When someone called round to see her in person, she was positively rude.’

  I had been wondering whether I should call her myself, given the seriousness of the situation, but her reaction to the police was enough to reassure me that I needn’t bother.

  ‘Anyway,’ said the officer, picking up a couple of bananas. ‘If Ryan gets in touch . . .’

  ‘I’ll call you.’ I nodded. ‘Straight away.’

  ‘Any news?’ asked Harry once the shop had emptied a bit.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘And you’re sure you want to be here?’ he asked, concern etched across his kind face.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, releasing a long breath, ‘definitely. I’d be going stir crazy at home, just sitting about and waiting.’

  ‘All right,’ he said, waving to Lou, who had just come into view outside. ‘But if you change your mind . . .’

  ‘I won’t,’ I told him. ‘This place is set to save my sanity.’

  ‘And not for the first time.’ He smiled, reminding me that it had been a refuge as well as my workplace on more than one occasion. ‘But you get off now for the day,’ he said. ‘Go and see how the lovebirds are faring.’

  The lovebirds were faring very well, but both were concerned about Ryan’s continued absence, and Gus was positively miserable.

  ‘Here,’ said Colin when Lou and I arrived at the bookshop, ‘you sit with him.’

  He dumped the little dog on my lap.

  ‘He might be able to pick up on your genetic connection to Ryan or something,’ said Colin, standing back and shaking his head as Lou made us all coffees. ‘He can’t carry on like this.’

  ‘None of us can,’ said Lou. ‘How are you coping at home?’ she asked me. ‘It must be so quiet.’

  It was strange to think that the peace and quiet of Nightingale Square was one of the things that had drawn me there and something I had been so reluctant to give up. I had known that inviting Ryan to stay with me while he got his life into some sort of order would mean sacrificing the simplicity I had worked so hard to create and yet, now I had it again, I couldn’t bear it. I had hardly spent any time in the house at all since Ryan had gone. Thankfully Jacob’s door was always open, but I wasn’t in the mood to share that particular bit of information with my two friends, who might well read just the right amount into the admission.

  ‘It is,’ I said, focusing on Gus’s silky head, ‘it’s horribly quiet and I miss tripping over his trainers and moaning about him leaving piles of wet towels all over the bathroom floor.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be back home soon,’ said Lou stoically.

  I knew she was trying to reassure me, and I wished I could feel as sure as she sounded, but I had already fallen to wondering how much worse I would feel when Ryan went back to Mum for good. Would home still feel like home without him living in it long-term?

  ‘And what about your book?’ asked Colin. ‘Have you got any further with that?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I haven’t even given it a thought.’

  ‘Perhaps now would be a good time to start planning,’ he suggested. ‘It might take your mind off things.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lou agreed, ‘it’s always good to have a project on the go.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ I said, sitting up and trying to pull myself together a bit. ‘Maybe.’

  As I walked home a little later I wondered if perhaps the pair of them were right; perhaps a project would help focus my mind and stop me fretting quite so much.

  ‘Jacob,’ I said, rushing up the path when I spotted him sitting on the step, ‘is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, jumping up, ‘don’t panic. I thought you might not be in the mo
od to cook tonight, so I thought I could instead. I popped to Greengages and stocked up. I thought I might try out that vegetable curry recipe card you gave me.’

  ‘And you want me to be your guinea pig?’ I smiled.

  ‘Something like that.’ He smiled back. ‘And I want to talk to you.’

  He sounded serious and he looked exhausted. I didn’t envy him one little bit; trying to squeeze the last few pieces of scheduled learning into a class who had one eye on the calendar and the six weeks of freedom that were now tantalisingly close must have been nigh on impossible. As a child I used to dread the long summer break, but I knew that not everyone hated being at home as much as I did.

  ‘In that case,’ I said, opening the door, ‘you’d better come in.’

  Having shown Jacob where he could find the utensils and pans he was going to need to cook up our vegetarian supper, I settled myself at the table and tried not to interfere. It wasn’t easy.

  ‘Haven’t you got anything else you could be doing?’ Jacob suggested, prising the wooden spoon from my grasp after I’d interrupted him for the umpteenth time. ‘Go and have a shower or something.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to talk,’ I reminded him.

  ‘I do,’ he said, ‘but not yet. I want to concentrate on getting this right for now.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, feeling suitably chastened. ‘I’ll let you get on.’

  I didn’t much feel like showering, not on my own anyway, so I gathered together my recipe notes, along with Gran’s more impressive tome, and started flicking through the pages, trying to work out which recipes might prove most practical, and complement Mark’s bread suggestions, if they ever did end up in a book.

  ‘What have you got there?’ asked Jacob as he peered over my shoulder, just minutes after I had finally agreed to leaving him alone.

  ‘It’s my recipe collection,’ I told him, ‘and my gran’s. Now don’t worry about what I’m doing, that pan will catch if you don’t keep stirring.’

  We ate outside as it was such a wonderful evening. Jacob’s curry was a mouth-watering and fragrant triumph. I’d soon finished my bowlful, mopping up the last of the sauce with soft naans and washing it down with a bottle of Indian Pale Ale.